BIMBO HIGH CAPS SKIN

That being said, I have to take the time to thank Danyelle for her very sweet and generous comment she made on the last post. I read each and every comment posted on this blog and appreciate every compliment, criticism, and suggestion made because I'm so grateful that I have a strong enough following on this blog that people are actually willing to comment. Had they named Peter Stryker from Braden & Hollis? That would have been quite a coup.So for this intro, I'd like to take a moment to reflect on something special that made my day. A real brass tacks move, Milo thought.Īll real work ceased as speculation ran wild. The job had been filled and the new hire would be along to address the troops in short order. Quick on the heels of the first revelation came a second. That's where big meeting rooms were fitted with extravagant bars, and old men pressed flesh and chewed expensive Cubans while millions of dollars traded hands. The floor above them was all for the suits. One for art and design, one for copy, one for marketing, and the last for media. Glass-walled offices lined the perimeter, forming the boundaries of the gardens of cubicles that bloomed. The main floor of Symphony Advertising was what would have been called modern thirty years before. There were some indignities one simply could not bear. He'd been just as brazen in his courting of the corner office, and there was some bitter comfort in knowing that he would not be working under Todd, at least.

The copy department was down the hall, but if there was any justice at all in the scenario, it was that Todd would be in the same boat. His stomach was tied up in knots in preparation for greeting his new boss. He was building up a real head of steam, shoving the remains of his lunch in the garbage.

BIMBO HIGH CAPS SKIN

The hours stooped over the old man, breathing in the smell of his papery skin and bald pate, the stink of cigars that clung to him, and all so he could play the same role to some other old fart who could take credit for his work. All his time spent in the admittedly posh office of the senior partner and VP was for naught. Milo, for one, thought that sounded like exquisite bullshit, and soured his taste for the Reuben he'd picked up from Rick's.

The word coming through the grapevine now was that the role had been filled by someone outside the company. A fine reminder, Milo thought, of just what the top brass thought about the employees. He let it trickle down to the young man the same way it did to all the lower-level employees. Still, it was telling the old man hadn't told Milo himself of the retirement. In the last two, the elder statesman of the business was so addled and checked out, it was Milo who had really been pulling the levers in the Marketing department. He'd worked with the senior Wells for almost five years, now, ever since he got the job at Symphony. When news of Wells's retirement first came down from the top of Symphony Advertising, Milo was sure he'd be the shoe-in. It was also the reason for his rivalry with Todd Hollingwood, a smug little prick from the copy department. The fact that the position was open was no big surprise, old man Wells was on his way out when the first Bush was in the White House, and now he was finally retiring for good, which meant the Vice President of Marketing position was open. First one head popped over the crest of cubicles, then another, and then the low rumble of gossip whispered through the office, just as sure as the crackling before the roar of flames. You could see it, like wildfire catching in the underbrush. At least, until news of the new boss came trickling down. Paired with some baked potato chips and soda, and Milo was feeling particularly fine. It was Wednesday, and on Wednesdays Milo allowed himself the pleasure of a sandwich from Rick's, where the meat piled high and the pickles were always cold and crispy. Milo was at his desk when the word came down. All names, places, likenesses, events, and incidents are fictional, and are in no way intended to describe actual events.įor more, visit or sign up for the monthly newsletter!

Bimbo high caps